When the lights go out {A Life Overseas}

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Elizabeth is over at A Life Overseas today . . .

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I want to do all the things. All the very good things there are to do in this world. So I overcommit myself. I don’t say “no.” I say “yes” instead, and spread myself too thin. Then my soul suffers. My work suffers. My sanity suffers. My family life suffers. My spiritual life suffers.

I suffer in silence, thinking I’m all alone. I’m the only one failing at everything. I’m the only one who can’t pull it together. I’m the only one who can’t catch my breath, who can’t catch up on work, who can’t catch up on school, who can’t catch up with friends, who can’t catch up with the God I say I love so very much.

And I, insecure missionary blogger that I am, am afraid to tell people.

To top all that off, the heat in Southeast Asia has been crushing me. The past two months have held record highs here, and we get a lot of power cuts. I echo Ramona Quimby in Ramona the Brave who shouted out “Guts! Guts guts guts!” when she wanted to say bad words. Instead, I yell “Cuts! Cuts cuts cuts!” and very nearly lose my mind.

After one particularly grueling 12-hour all-night power outage, something inside me broke — flat out broke. I lost my hope. I began to question everything. Why are we here? Why can’t we live in America? Why exactly do I serve this God of mine? And where the heck is He when I can barely sleep or even breathe in this heat?

I was struggling under the weight of all the expectations I had for myself: be a good mom, be a good wife, be a good home educator, be a good missionary, be a good team leader’s wife, be a good friend, be a good writer, be a good editor, be a good Christ-follower. And I couldn’t do any of it.

Finish reading this post here.

Forced Shut Down

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by Elizabeth

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I don’t shut down my computer on a daily basis. It takes so long for my computer to shut down and later restart that it saves me time not to do it. At least, I think it saves time.

But then my computer starts running hot and slow and loud. Sometimes a little warning box even pops up, telling me it needs to shut down in order to install updates. It needs a reboot so it can download newer, fresher versions of my programs.

Most of the time I ignore the slowly loading programs and pages, the constantly whirring fan, and the overheating machine resting on my toasty, tropical lap. And I click a button and override that pesky little warning box.

Eventually though, my computer forces a shut down. And since I usually haven’t been shutting it down on a regular basis, it can take up to 30 minutes or more to close down, install updates, and restart.

I usually roll my eyes in annoyance when this happens, because I can’t get things done with those 30 minutes! I am instead forced to wait. But after all that waiting, the computer runs cooler and faster and quieter.

I treat myself just like I treat my computer. I don’t shut down on a daily basis. I run my life hot and loud and rushed, and I tell myself it saves time. It’s efficient. It gets things done.

But I’m wrong, and just like my computer, I sometimes need a forced shut down. And this past week, through quite an unexpected channel, I received just that: my husband left town and headed to the mountains of Europe for a work conference.

I dread my husband going out of town like I dread those recurring computer shut downs. But this time, his trip forced a shut down in me — a shut down I desperately needed.

I couldn’t leave the house to work or do ministry. By myself, I couldn’t even do as much at home. So I didn’t try to. I slowed down. I scaled back. We did our basic lessons. Then we played. We read. We laughed. We met with friends.

I rested. I did less. I started gently re-evaluating my plans and priorities. And the week reset me. I’m running better now. Less panic and more patience. Less self-condemnation and more calm. Less internal swelter and more farsightedness.

I probably still need some more reboots. But I’m running quieter and more efficiently. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. I needed a forced shut down, and thank God, He sent me one.

The Top 6 Things I’m Learning and Living this Year

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A couple weeks ago I shared the “Top 5 Things I’m Learning and Living This Year (because I have neither the time nor inclination to blog)” on Facebook. Since that time I’ve been learning a 6th really key lesson; and since my Facebook readers and blog readers aren’t always the same, I’m taking the time to share this here too. I’d love to hear in the comments what you’re learning and living this year!

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1. ON MARRIAGE: I neglect Date Night only at my peril. Sometimes after a busy month I look at my husband and think to myself, “We don’t even know each other.” I don’t want to get to the end of 20 years and think those thoughts; 20 days is long enough. All my work is at the house: mom, teacher, writer, housekeeper. So I have to get out of the house with my man Jonathan Trotter. To breathe, to think. To connect, to focus. To relax, to commune. I literally can’t live without Date Night.

2. ON HOME SCHOOL: I’m loving read-aloud time (part of the reason I have neither time nor inclination to write). I’m finding that children’s literature is sometimes the best thing I can read by myself too. And I’m starting to think that one of the hardest parts about this home education gig is teaching basic phonics & decoding (reading) and base ten arithmetic. Those two hurdles are hard to jump for a 5 or 6 year old. And they’re so intuitive to this 34-year-old former engineer that they can be hard to teach, too.

3. ON FORGIVENESS AND HEALING: Sometimes healing from a fractured relationship means letting the other person go and being completely at peace with the loss of relationship. I never thought I would get there, but I am. Slowly.

4. ON SOUL CARE AND THE RHYTHMS OF WORK AND REST: I tend to work too hard and too long. I tend not to carve out enough time to rest. I have to take enough time to feed my soul and rest my body. I have to take time to feed my hunger for awe and wonder. It doesn’t get fed enough when I overcommit myself or work too much. I’m slowly coming back to a better rhythm of work and rest (also part of the reason I have neither the time nor the inclination to blog).

5. ON SYMBOL AND METAPHOR: I am all about the symbols and metaphors lately. Symbol: a word or phrase that encompasses a world of meaning. Like Genesis 1:1 or Prodigal God or Passover or Kassiah Jones. Just one word and everything I know about something comes flooding back to my mind. The symbol is paramount, as is the metaphor. I can’t get enough metaphors for God: Shepherd, Father, Rock, Bread, Wisdom. We can only see facets of His character — and we need them all — but He isn’t in any one of them. Still, I love the metaphor.

6. ON NEGLECTING REAL-LIFE COMMUNITY: Community is something I’ve neglected in my overwork and overwhelm. But I neglect it at the expense of my mental health. I was beginning to lose the mental game in several areas of my life — that is, I was beginning to lose the mental game until I started reaching out to real-life friends and confiding my struggles to them. Presto! Mental game, ON. We really must do as James says and confess our faults to one another and pray for one another, that we may be healed. So thankful for real-life friends who support and encourage me.

What about you? I’d love to learn what you’re learning, too.

3 Ways to Care for the Heart of Your Wife {A Life Overseas}

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by Jonathan

Marriage can really be a drain on missions. Marriage on the field can be a constant source of distraction, discouragement, and pain.

But I hope it’s not.

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I’ve written before about marriage and its purpose, but today I’d like to take a step back and speak directly to husbands: my brothers.

This advice is carefully given, and with no slight hesitation. After all, if you want people to argue with you (and I don’t particularly enjoy it), then write about marriage. Even so, I will write. Because it matters. And because I hope the men who marry my sisters will do these things. I hope the men who pursue my daughters (in the very far distant future) will do these things. I hope my sons will do these things. Because marriage is important. It’s also really complicated.

Marriage is a complex thing (2 into 1) entered into by complex people (humans) who have to do complex stuff (live).

And you all know this already, but missions is a hard gig for marriages. You’ve got sky-high stress levels, extreme temperatures, lots of broken things, financial tightness, the fishbowl of fundraising, and a rewarding but very hard job. Sounds like fun, right? Well, if you add all of that to an unhappy marriage, I can tell you the one thing you certainly won’t be having is fun.

So, onward! What are three things you can do to care for the heart of your wife?

Continue reading over at A Life Overseas…

‘Tis The (Leaving) Season!

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by Jonathan

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It’s that time of year when a lot of folks return to their passport countries; some for a visit and some for good. Which means it’s that time of year when returners get upset that folks “at home” don’t really care all that much about life abroad, or our ministry, or our former country, etc.

But what if the returners cared as much about the home team as we want the home team to care about us?

What if the returners asked their senders questions of the same quantity and intensity that we desire the senders to ask us?

Maybe you’ve been abroad for two years or four years or six months. That’s awesome! And maybe you’ve got stories and you’ve experienced love and loss and grit and glory.

So have they.

Those who “stayed behind” lived life too. And while you were living two years, they were living two years too. And most likely, they’ve got stories and they’ve experienced love and loss and grit and glory too.

And while we’re so desperately wanting people to listen to and care about our stories, perhaps we should spend some time listening to and caring about theirs.

Turns out, pretty much everyone likes being heard.

And I think that’s a gift we should give. These people send us, pray for us, sacrifice for us. The least we can do is actually care about their stories of love and loss.

Remember, they lived life too.